


Show Me All The Things You Want To Do

by seblaiens



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:43:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/seblaiens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't have money for a hotel room, and the only person he knows in this city is the guy he fucked a few years back while trying to also steal from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me All The Things You Want To Do

Two weeks into his job in Seattle, Harry runs out of money. Okay, he doesn’t really run out of all of his money, but he spends every last cent down to the amount he’s willing to part with. And since his job is running longer than he thought, he’s gonna have to pay for another few days in his hotel. With money he doesn’t have. Shit.

It brings him to the only person he knows in this state who might not shut the door on him the second they see him. Rafe Adler.

 

They had a drunken hook up once, a few years ago, when Harry was at a black market auction trying to scope out who’s buying what and who has lousy security in their homes. He went home with Rafe simply to get into his house, but he stayed the night for an ass that wouldn’t quit. The guilt and regret he saw in Rafe’s eyes the morning after though made it clear that it had been a one night kind of thing, and Harry hadn’t felt the need to call him again afterwards. Even if it had been quite the night.

Harry decides to not call in advance, his chances are probably better if Rafe sees him in person. Harder to shake him off than on a phone call. The cab takes him to the apartment complex Rafe lived in a few years prior, and Harry checks the mail boxes downstairs to make sure he still lives there.

Sixteenth floor. R. Adler. Perfect.

Harry hides his suitcase at an angle that Rafe will not be able to see before he knocks. Better introduce that to Rafe later, after Harry has already wormed his way into the apartment. It takes a few seconds for Rafe to get to the door, and Harry raises his hand to knock again just as the door opens, Rafe’s face changing from surprise, to confusion, to, as what Harry would describe as, absolute horror.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ahh, darling, I’m happy to see you, too,” Harry smiles at Rafe, leaning down to hug the other man. A hand on his chest, pushing him back, stops him. “Now, are you not happy to see me?”

“You stole my watch.”

Harry licks over his lips before nibbling at some dead skin. Right. He knew he had forgotten something.

“I’ll get you another one?”

“It was my father’s graduation gift.” Rafe crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans against the frame of the door. Harry lets his eyes travel over his body, the small frame of his torso and legs almost not fitting to the muscly shoulders and arms. He’s wearing all black again, like always, skinny jeans and an expensive looking black shirt, the top two buttons undone, showing a little bit of chest hair. Saliva almost drips out of Harry’s mouth. He wants to put his mouth all over that body.

“Ah, come on, you don’t like him anyway…” Harry says as Rafe begins to shut the door slowly. He puts his feet between it and the frame just before it closes. “Come on, Rafe, let’s talk about this.”

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about.”

“I need help, alright? Just hear me out.”

Rafe opens the door again, sighing as he steps aside and waves Harry inside. He grabs his suit case, grinning at Rafe when he looks at it with raised eyebrows.

“You’re not going to move in, are you?”

“I don’t think we’re at that point in our relationship quite yet, love.”

He hears Rafe grumbling behind him as Harry walks into the living room, taking in the little changes to the room that have assorted over the years he hadn’t been here. The TV is bigger, Rafe bought new chairs, and he thinks that maybe the sofa was switched out for a different one, but he can’t really remember. He sits down on it, patting the space next to him for Rafe to sit, but he keeps standing in front of Harry, the coffee table in-between them.

“So. Explain.”

Harry sighs and retells his story, trying his best to sound as charming as possible in hope Rafe would take pity on him. It works, at least a little bit, when Rafe speaks up again after he’s finished his speech.

“You can stay, but-“ Rafe raises his hand when Harry fist pumps, “for no more than two nights.”

“Two nights is all I need to make you want me to stay.” Harry wiggles his eyebrows and smirks at Rafe.

Rafe just rolls his eyes and walks into his bedroom. Harry stands up and follows him, pulling his suitcase after him. He gets into the bedroom and watches as Rafe picks up a glass of red wine, taking one gulp before he turns off the laptop that sits atop his desk.

“Don’t think I’ll let you sleep in my bed,” Rafe says without turning around, “you’re staying on the couch.”

Harry puts his suit case to the foot of Rafe’s bed before he walks over to the other man, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his neck.

“You don’t really want that, do you?” Harry whispers in his ear before taking the glass out of Rafe’s hands, drinking the rest before putting it down on the desk. “You seem tense, my love.”

“Yeah, I’m being assaulted right now.”

Harry chuckles and turns Rafe around, pushing him onto desk and stepping between his legs. He brings their faces closer together, their noses touching but their lips not quite reaching each other. Harry lets his hands rest on Rafe’s lower back before he kisses his neck again, sucking a few tiny bruises onto Rafe’s pale skin. He smiles when he hears Rafe sigh.

“There we go.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Harry picks Rafe up, who holds onto his arms with a yelp and situates them both on the bed. It’s Rafe who finally kisses him when he lands under Harry, their lips meeting with a familiar, but long forgotten movement. Rafe tastes like more than just one glass of wine, and Harry guesses he must have finished a bottle before he had knocked on the door. It’s probably why he’s also opened the buttons on his shirt – Rafe ran hot when he was drunk.

“Take these clothes off, sweetheart,” Harry mutters as he gets off Rafe, fumbling with the buttons on Rafe’s shirt. Rafe pushes away his hands after a few seconds of failing to open even one, doing it himself as Harry takes off his shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans. He slides off his underwear, too, after a few seconds of pondering.

When he looks back, Rafe is trying to take off those sinfully tight black pants, struggling with them in the position he’s lying in. Harry grabs them and pulls them down, getting on his knees and pulling Rafe’s hips forward so he’s lying on the edge of the bed. He trails kisses over Rafe’s thighs and stomach, making the other man squirm before Harry slowly takes off his underwear, licking over his hard cock and sucking the head a few times before getting up again. His knees can’t take the hard tile floor.

Rafe crawls back into the middle of the king sized bed, pulling Harry on top of him again. Harry’s almost forgotten the way Rafe sounds when they’re fucking, the constant sighs and moans, and they haven’t even really started yet.

“How do you want me?” Rafe asks when they part for breath, and Harry feels his cock twitch just from the sheer possibility of ways he can fuck Rafe.

“Get on your hands and knees,” Harry decides finally, and Rafe grabs lube and a condom from his nightstand before turning around, his ass in the air. Just the way Harry likes it.

He takes his sweet time preparing Rafe, fingering him and licking over his hole until he’s begging for it, begging for Harry’s cock.

“Jesus Christ, Flynn, do it now or you’re sleeping on the streets,” Rafe spits out after a few minutes of agonizing pleasure, but it’s not enough. He wants more.

Harry laughs at him as he puts on the condom, spreading a bit more lube over the latex before pushing himself into Rafe, slowly, carefully. Rafe buries his face in the pillows as he takes Harry’s cock, the stretch deliciously painful and pleasurable at the same time. He gets back on his hands, leaving the sound muffling pillow behind. He almost screams when Harry starts thrusting into him hard, gabbing his hip with one hand and his shoulder with the other, pulling him back with each thrust.

“You’re such a bitch sometimes, darling,” Harry moans as he pushes himself in, his voice strained, “can’t enjoy something without complaining about it first.”

Rafe doesn’t answer, instead just moans with each thrust into him, throwing his head back when Harry finds his prostate. His cock is dripping pre-come, and Rafe gets back on one of his elbows so he can stroke himself. He sees stars dance in front of his eyes as he comes, probably more from the alcohol than the orgasm, but he guesses he can partly chalk it up to Harry’s abilities as a lover. He can hear Harry come behind him, feel his hands spasm as they wrap around his hip, pulling Rafe’s ass onto Harry’s crotch, shoving his cock in as far as he can before his body goes lax.

He ties up the condom before he lies down next to Rafe, throwing it carelessly onto the floor. He knows Rafe won’t have to clean it up himself and will leave some poor, under-paid maid to clean it up. For a second, as he lies next to Rafe, he thinks about taking the other man into his arms, but he knows their relationship doesn’t work like that.

“Great, as always,” he comments instead, slapping Rafe’s ass, the sound echoing through the room, before he turns on his side to sleep. He hears Rafe try to stifle a laugh behind his back, a smile overtaking his own face at the sound.

Yeah, he’ll definitely be allowed to stay longer than two days. Rafe won’t have a chance against his gentlemanly British charms.


End file.
